


I Promise Sugar I Wasn’t Trying to Steal

by jannika



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/731193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jannika/pseuds/jannika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A University AU in which Louis is fairly certain the universe is mocking him and makes a questionable life choice or two or six in response. Most of them involve Harry. One of them involves sex in a stock room. Or, Harry and Zayn have a past, Liam and Zayn have a future, Niall’s not sure why they all make it so hard on themselves, and Louis has it all under control. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Promise Sugar I Wasn’t Trying to Steal

**Author's Note:**

> I guess by back I might have meant, unable to stop writing them. This is also not a thing I planned to write. It does however have a potential prequel. We’ll see. Um. As always for the Liam to my Zayn and my very favorite girl.

 

Louis is sipping his far-too-cold tea and throwing CVs in the shredder when Niall pokes his head in the sad little back office.

"One more out there, Lou. You ready?" Niall asks. Louis doesn't bother to suppress his groan.  
He's one hundred percent certain that he's not paid enough for this. Last term their boss at the campus bookstore had decided they were in charge of interviews because apparently it's good real world experience or something. Some fucking shit about valuable life skills that had sounded mostly like an excuse to pawn something else off on them to Louis. And like, Niall ends up best friends with everyone he interviews and planning to meet them for drinks and it has resulted in several people who only lasted like, three shifts. And as the three other employees haven't been there as long as him and are basically totally useless anyway, that leaves Louis.

"Sure," Louis says, wincing at his tea, all gross in his mouth now that it's cooled.

"His application and all is sitting there somewhere," Niall says.

"It's cute that you think I read those," Louis says. He doesn't, he'd never bothered to read them, because he doesn't care. It's not like this job is anywhere near hard, so Louis could really give fuck all about experience, he just wants someone he's not going to want to murder four days a week. Plus, his own had been so full of bullshit he always assumes everyone else’s is too.

"Right," Niall says, rolling his eyes.

"Just go get him," Louis says.

"Going," Niall says.

"You could bring me some tea while you're at it!" Louis calls.

"No," Niall calls back over his shoulder. Louis groans again. He wonders if he can sneak out after this interview. The last four have been so boring that he'd sort of wanted to start breaking things or jumping off things. So he doesn't have high hopes.

"Um," a voice in the doorway says. Louis swivels in his chair and. Oh.

"Hi there," Louis says, hoping to God this kid is his interview and not just lost or something. Because. This kid, boy, man, person is all like, curls and these giant eyes and the prettiest fucking mouth and his shirt is clinging to him and his pants are low and also tight and he's like, littered in tattoos and his voice had been all deep and slow and fuck. For a moment Louis is convinced his tea has gone so bad in the cold that it’s poisoned him, causing hallucinations of fantasy boys. But then, thankfully the fantasy boy speaks.

"I'm Harry? I have an interview," he says.

"Have a seat, Harry," Louis says, rolling Harry's name over his tongue, "I'm Louis."

"Hi, um. Louis," Harry says, all nervous and pretty. Louis studies him for a second. There is something, close up, about him Louis can't- he looks familiar, maybe? In a weird vague way that doesn't make sense? They do both go to school here, so it's probably that Harry has been in a class with him but that doesn't seem right and- but then Louis eyes fall to a handful of bracelets around Harry's wrist and an arm band with a bar logo not covered up enough for Louis not to recognize it. He's got quite a few himself. And if Harry enjoys it there he'll probably also enjoy Louis' bed. So.

"Don't be nervous," Louis says, hoping his smile comes off warm and not like, lustful. Or at least splits the difference.

"It is an interview," Harry says back, a little touch of defiant in his nervous now. Fuck, but Louis is charmed by that.

"Right. But it's not formal. Basically you just tell me about yourself and if I like you that's basically that," Louis says.

"I think you just described a date," Harry says, eyes lighting up, smirking a little. Oh, Louis' life is so good right now.

"Maybe that's just what you wanted to hear," Louis says back. Harry flushes and grins.

"So is this standard protocol or am I special?" Harry asks and he sounds like he's having fun now.

"For interviews or dates?" Louis throws back, because. Fuck professionalism.

"If I answer that do I get to experience both?' Harry asks. Probably he is actually perfect, though. Louis is barely able to suppress the delighted sound his mind is making at all of this.

"Formalities first, love, then we'll get personal," Louis says. Harry giggles at that.

"Right. So do you want to know if I've like done this before? Work history?" Harry asks, still grinning.

"Not unless you feel like you need to tell me. We can just pretend I've asked you, if you like," Louis says, reaching for his tea again.

"Would that hurry along the formalities?" Harry asks, then grins at the face Louis feels himself making around a swallow of tea, "are you okay?" he asks.

"My tea is cold, it was fairly rubbish to begin with and now it's just making me sad," Louis explains. Harry looks thoughtful.

"Would it be bribery and inappropriate to say I'd bring you tea, good stuff. Every day if I worked here?" Harry asks. Louis might be in love.

"Yes, it very much would be. But we passed inappropriate a little ways back. So keep talking," Louis says.

"I would! Also I've worked in a bakery and I'm a good worker and I need a job. And I'd bring tea, and. You should really let me buy you tea whether you hire me or not, actually," Harry says.

"Should I now?" Louis asks.

"Tea, drinks, dinner, something," Harry says.

"Well then," Louis says, counting the tattoos on Harry he can see and pretending to consider, "I suppose if you're going to buy me things you'll be needing a job."

"I will," Harry agrees, beaming now, "are you offering me this one?"

"Obviously," Louis says, "if anyone asks, pretend I asked you real stuff, but. You can start tomorrow."

"I would have taken you out anyway, tea, drinks, whatever," Harry says because he's apparently the boldest boy in the world and maybe also Louis' soulmate.

"Glad to hear it, be a bit sleazy of you otherwise," Louis says. Harry grins.

"Still formalities first? Paperwork before I get your number, Louis-" Harry trails off.

"Tomlinson," Louis finishes for him, "and I think we can accomplish both at the same time, Harry."

"Styles," Harry says. Louis blinks at him. He’s probably misheard that. Yes.

"Sorry?" He says.

"Harry Styles? I'm, I thought we were doing the full name thing just there?" Harry says.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck his whole life forever. The name has pulled up a memory and. Oh, fuck.

He knows exactly why Harry looks so familiar.

***

The thing with Zayn is that people never, ever believe them. Like, literally anything they say to people about their relationship is met with skepticism and disbelief and occasionally scathing commentary. Louis has even heard it suggested that they only claim to not be together, to not be sleeping together, as some sort of play to lure people into threesomes or orgies or something? He’s not positive how that would work, actually. He’s also sure that was meant as an insult, some way of like, fucking calling them deviant or something. Not that not being sure how it works or being certain he should been insulted had stopped him from asking Zayn if he thought that would actually work. The threesomes part, that is. He might have asked while he was sitting on Zayn’s lap, and Zayn might have told him he wasn’t helping matters any and shoved him but not meant it.

Whatever. The point is that they’re not together and even when people stop raising their eyebrows at that long enough to ask how they’d met, then, no one ever believes that story either. They seem to feel it feeds into the first thing, which Louis thinks is a little unfair as it’s all true.

He supposes it was an unconventional way to meet your best friend, really, but like, conventional has never been his style anyway. It had been the very first week of university the morning after some godawful first year welcome party that had devolved into heavy drinking. Well, okay technically they’d met the night before, which was how they got to the morning part, but Louis doesn’t really count that because that night Zayn had been an incredibly attractive face and a nice laugh and several drinks and so much skin and it’s all too fuzzy to be the proper first time they’d met.

So the way he sees it, the first time he’d met Zayn was watching Zayn’s back as Zayn crawled out of Louis’ bed at some ridiculous early morning, no sun in the sky yet, hour. And the thing had been like, fuck that. Louis had spent years hiding and being afraid and feeling bad, Louis had spent years getting shit and getting taunted and never really having anyone, and like here he was his first week in uni, new life starting and all of that, and he was not fucking about to let someone ruin all of that and throw him back into feeling bad. Louis was not, absofuckinglotely not going to let some boy and his probable gay panic or whatever be a memory that ruined his first week. He just. Fuck that. So Louis had opened his mouth and said,

“You’re beating me to sneaking out,” because catching people off guard is an excellent tactic.

“Oh. Um. Fuck,” Zayn had said, turning around, “Could have just let me go then?”

“Decided not to,” Louis said. Zayn had flinched and sat back down on the bed and run a hand through his hair.

“Why’s that?” Zayn said, looking uncomfortable. Good, Louis had thought. Good.

“Curious.”

“About?” Zayn’d asked.

“I was trying to figure out your cliche reason for leaving while it’s still dark. I’m debating between running back to a girlfriend, girls in general whatever or commitment issues severe enough that you feel like any time spent between 7am and 10pm might be like marriage,” Louis had said, keeping his tone as light as possible, but making sure his eyes weren’t letting Zayn off the hook.

“You missed one,” Zayn said.

“What?” Louis asked.

“A cliched reason. You missed one,” Zayn said, smiling wryly and making Louis remember that he’d really liked him last night. The fuzzy memories of him, anyway. Louis had thought about that for a minute and then offered,

“You just got out of a relationship and now you’re shattered and emotionally closed off and waking up with someone who wasn’t your ex freaked you the fuck out?”

“Ding,” Zayn had said, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh. Well I suppose I feel a little better about that one,” Louis said. Zayn made a face like he was trying not to make a sad face.

“Yeah well, Sorry anyway?” Zayn said.

“You want to to tell me about it?” Louis had asked.

“No offense, but why would I want to tell you about it?” Zayn asked.

“Because sometimes it helps to tell a stranger? Also I’ve seen you naked?” Louis offered. Zayn frowned.

“Not a lot to tell,” Zayn said.

“Sure there is. Like, how long were you with this- boy?” Louis asked.

“Like, my whole life,” Zayn said. Louis raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Neighbours since we were like, twelve. He,” Zayn said, emphasizing the _he_ and giving Louis a pointed look, “Was my best friend. And then more than that. And then,” Zayn shrugged, looking sad again.

“That sucks,” Louis said. Zayn had looked at the ground.

“I am sorry, the before light thing is a dick move and I, sorry,” Zayn said.

“Have breakfast with me and we’ll forget it? You can tell me more,” Louis had offered.

“I-” Zayn had started and Louis had shaken his head.

“Just breakfast, you look like you need a friend,” Louis said.

“It couldn’t hurt,” Zayn had said, and then he’d shook his head again, “Wait. You said. Why would you have left?”

“So you couldn’t do it first,” Louis said, smiling a little, and the thing had been. Like. He could really use a fucking friend himself. And Zayn had, right away, been. Exactly what he was looking for, honestly. And it would take months for Zayn to tell Louis the rest of that story, to tell him about his neighbour boy and the way it had gone wrong, it would take over a year before Zayn had opened long forgotten facebook and myspace photo albums and showed Louis pictures of their faces smiling up at each other. But that day, that very first morning at breakfast, in what was mostly shrugs and deflections, he had gotten a name. Harry Styles.

***

Okay. Right. Louis can do this. He has will power and self conttol and for fuck's sake he'd flirted with Harry once. They didn't like, drukenly elope. Just. Steady on. Professional. Off limits. Right. No problem. Less of a problem if Harry hadn't brought him tea and it wasn't wonderful, less of a problem if Louis could stop wondering what would happen to Harry's pulse if Louis had his tongue tracing some of the lettering on Harry's arm, less of a problem if Harry wasn't all smiles and smirks and questions and eager and if-

Right. It's not a problem.

"So you should tell me all about yourself," Harry says. They're putting course labels on shipment of books and probably Louis should have asked Niall to train Harry. But. Hindsight and all of that.

"Like what?" Louis asks. He had managed, after Harry's interview to keep from freaking out, managed to apologise and leave quickly and have Niall do the paperwork while Louis whipped out his phone and clicked through the albums on Zayn's old, not updated in years, facebook. In case there were two identical Harry Styles' of about the same age running around. No such luck. A few less years, a few less tattoos, same stupidly pretty face. Which. He can do this.

"I don't know, you know all about me," Harry says, and Louis swallows down panic.

"Do I?" He asks, as light as possible.

"You did interview me," Harry says. He should really stop smirking, for the sake of Louis' sanity.

"Yes, but all that taught me was that you're a bit of a shameless flirt," Louis says. Okay. Shit, that might have been the wrong thing to say. But. He's trying.

"I thought we were pretending you did, got really in depth too," Harry whispers, all conspiratorially with raised eyebrows and all. Louis' life is so deeply, spectacularly unfair he sort of wants to cry. He's being mocked. By the universe.

"But pretend information is not real. I don't even know when you got here," Louis says.

"Here where? The store? This school? The world?" Harry asks.

"The second, since we arrived at the same time and I can guess how old you are," Louis says.

"Oh," Harry says, mock pouting, "I was hoping you wanted to know my birthday so you could plan us a romantic holiday. Somewhere all warm and sexy like."

"Tad premature there, don't you think?" Louis says, counting backwards from 100 in his head. He can do this. Right. Harry is apparently the boldest person on earth and like, Louis is attracted to that sort of thing. So fucking much. But. Professional. Zayn. Right.

"I like a whirlwind romance," Harry says, grinning.

"I'll remember that," Louis says. Fuck. No. That was wrong.

"Good. And just a few weeks ago, I transfered in for this term. Switched programs," Harry says, picking up the actual conversation they were having.

"What program?" Louis asks.

"Political Science," Harry says, "it's a big change. I don't know anyone here at all, either."

"Far from home, then?" Louis asks, even though he knows the answer. He's seen Harry's house, even. But. There is a tiny part of him still hoping he's not the same Harry.

"I am, but I'd never like, my first uni wasn't working anyway, not my choice to begin with, and I needed to get away," Harry says. Louis nods and hears Zayn's voice in his head, telling Louis that they'd been planning to go together, Zayn and Harry, off to school, living together and all and when it had fallen apart Zayn had switched to his third choice and practically run there. Which is how he'd ended up living in housing with five other people, awful, all of them, and then how he'd ended up moving into Louis' room about three weeks into their friendship. Turning Zayn's last minute choice and Louis' roommate never showing up into the best things, really.

"You like it here so far?" Louis asks.

"What I've seen," Harry says, looking Louis up and down as he does. Louis gulps and reminds himself that Harry broke Zayn's heart, or like, close enough, and Zayn is, well, Zayn and that is all there is to it.

"Glad to hear it," Louis says, pushing past the traitorous thought in his head, the voice telling him it was three years ago. They were kids. Harry isn't- no. He can do this.

"I'd like to see more though, when I buy you that drink, maybe?" Harry asks. Right. Okay.

"This week is kind of shit, honestly, don't think I can," Louis says.

"I'll wait till next week then," Harry says, and Louis is very aware he's not exactly putting Harry off here.

"We'll see," He says, and he means it vague but hears it come out of his mouth flirtatious. What is wrong with him? How is this so hard?

"So. Tell me about you, seriously. What are you studying?" Harry asks.

"Teaching. I want to teach drama," Louis says.

"You're probably fantastic with kids," Harry says.

"Are you always like this?" Louis says.

"Like what? I mean, probably, but specify?" Harry asks. Louis is so. He's. Enamored so fucking enamored and Harry is so-not a place he can go. Right.

"Bold? Forward?" Louis suggests.

"Oh. Yes. I like to think of it as persistence and honesty, but. Yes. Why?" Harry says, grinning.

"It takes some getting used to," Lois says.

"I can be around more, for you to get used to," Harry says, then frowns a little, "unless that was your way of telling me I'm coming on too strong?" Okay. Good. This an in, and Louis should say 'yes' here. That will help.

"As long as you bring tea," he says instead.

Will power has never exactly been his strong suit.

***

On the way home he texts Liam and invites him to dinner, just for Zayn, and then he pops in the store and buys Zayn two packs of cigarettes and four Red Bulls. Which is not only overkill but a little bit more expensive than he'd planned, once he's rung up. The cashier girl is making this bored, judgey face at him, though, so he shrugs and runs his card and tries not wince while he waits for the little screen to read, "approved."

It does, thankfully, so Louis signs and heads back to their flat. Guilt is very hard on his wallet, apparently. He flings open their door to find Zayn on the couch, so he sits down and then puts both the bag and his legs on Zayn's lap.

"Afternoon, sunshine! I bought you presents!" Louis says. Zayn arches an eyebrow.

"You bought me presents?" he repeats, looking at the bag so suspiciously that if Louis weren't filled with guilt he'd probably be offended..

"I did! New term presents! You said you had no time to like, sleep or breathe because you have so much to do. And I'm generous," Louis says.

"Um, thanks?" Zayn says, pulling things from the bag, "why though?"

"I've just told you. To help. Your schedule," Louis says.

"Right. Why are you being so weird?" Zayn asks. It doesn't stop him from wrapping a hand around Louis' ankle after he's put the bag down, though. Good.

"I'm not," Louis says.

"Presents?" Zayn says.

"You should be grateful! They show I care," Louis says.

"Still fucking being weird," Zayn says, drumming his fingers around Louis' skin a little.

"I'm never doing anything nice for you ever again then," Louis says. Zayn rolls his eyes.

"I'm very, very grateful?" Zayn offers with absolutely zero sincerity.

"Liar," Louis says, "I've invited Liam for dinner, by the way."

"You've, why?" Zayn asks.

"To cheer you up!" Louis says. He is so bad at like, everything today. Fuck.

"Was I sad?" Zayn asks.

"Maybe," Louis says.

"Fucking weird," Zayn says again, then he bites his lip, "are you okay, Lou?"

"I've never been better," Louis says, probably with an ounce too much fake smile.

"What's going on?" Zayn asks.

"Can't a person do something nice for their mates without it being some sort of crisis?" Louis asks. Zayn frowns deeper.

"Really, are you okay?" he asks. Louis sighs.

"Top of the world, honest," he says. Zayn looks at him with even more suspicion than he looked at the bag.

"Right," Zayn says, "whatever you say."

"We need to make dinner! For Liam!" Louis enthuses. Zayn is still staring at him like he's lost the plot and this is all terribly bizarre and. Louis' plans are not working out today.

"Who you invited because I might have been sad?" Zayn questions.

"Are you trying tell me you've never in your life been sad?" Louis says. There. That's better.

"Louis," Zayn says, eyebrows up again.

"Liam makes you happy, yes?" Louis asks. Zayn flushes and good. Excellent. Changing the subject to Liam is brilliant diversion, really. Liam works with Zayn at an art supply store in town where Zayn teaches classes and Liam rings people out and they engage in long, drawn-out flirtation. It's been months in the building, the two of them and their movies together and their going to art shows and their comic conventions and Zayn introducing Liam to Louis looking so nervous Louis had thought he might throw up for a second. It's like watching his best friend fall in love in some sort of montage, really.

"He said he's coming, then?" Zayn asks.

"You're adorable," Louis says, "you love him."

"Shut up," Zayn says, but he buries his arm in Louis' shoulder as he does.

"We'll make him something delicious and then he'll stay forever," Louis declares. Zayn makes incoherent mumbling noises into his shoulder. Louis pulls him in closer.

Louis loves Zayn, he does, obviously, it's why the Not Happening Harry thing is such an issue, but Zayn, like. Zayn does this thing where he's convinced he shuts people out and drives them away- he's always said that's what happened with Harry, that he drove Harry away- so because he's convinced it's a thing he always does, he shuts people out even harder. Louis refers to it as the Zayn Paradox- worried you push people away so you keep them away to avoid it, all these defenses up so high and tight. But like, Liam, Louis can tell, is finding all this footing, is slowly just not being pushed away, and Louis thinks that alone might make him perfect for Zayn. Plus, Louis likes him, now that Zayn's let them meet, Louis totally gets the appeal and is glad Liam exists, really. And Louis like. Can't step on this happier, less-guarded Zayn with the Harry thing. He can't. He won"t. That would make him the most shit friend ever, basically.

"Come on, love, to the kitchen to see if we even have food," Louis says, wiggling his legs on Zayn's lap.

"We never make dinner," Zayn says, still into Louis shoulders.

"Special occasion," Louis says. Zayn sits up and let's go of Louis' ankle.

"If like, Lou, if you're not okay and you don't want to tell me now, you always. I mean, whenever, you know?" Zayn says, looking serious again for a moment.

"You're always first to know when something's wrong," Louis says.

"Whenever," Zayn repeats.

Louis smiles. "I know," he says.

Right. Make dinner, talk to Liam, be happy for Zayn, don't think about Harry. Louis' got this.

***

For three whole weeks it really is all okay. Mostly. Like, Harry is still all bold and questions and morning tea and texting Louis luck before exams and so interested in everything Louis says and passionate about a million different things and slow-voiced and fascinating and attractive and funny and charming and so fucking smart. But. They haven't see each other outside of work and as long as it doesn't go beyond work flirtation and a text or two, Louis feels like he's got a decent handle on it, honestly. Okay, maybe Harry's name shouldn't be saved in his phone under initials, but. All and all.

There's a nearly close call one night when Niall's walking home with him because Zayn and Liam and Niall and Louis are drinking, probably with take away, and Niall says, "did we not invite Harry?”

"No. Why?" Louis asks.

"I thought we were all friends now?" Niall asks. Louis does not panic. Not even a little.

"It's not a new people sort of night," Louis says.

"Liam's still sort of new," Niall says, sounding a little confused.

"But Zayn and Liam are a thing, so that doesn't count. Also we love Liam."

"I thought you and Harry were, like," Niall says, but stops, probably because of the murderous look Louis is giving him.

"Why would you think that?" Louis asks.

"He doesn't bring me tea," Niall shrugs.

"I'm sure he would if you asked him!" Louis says. Niall blinks.

"Is this that thing you and Zayn do? Some fucking wait to meet the family thing? Have to approve everyone the other sees naked?" Niall asks. Normally Louis would protest that, even though it's mostly true, but it sounds like a perfect excuse tonight so he jumps at it.

"Sort of," Louis says, "so if we could not talk about Harry. Or work. That would. We should do that."

"Sure," Niall says, looking at him all puzzled, but still. He’s agreed. It's probably a stroke of amazing luck and schedules that Niall hasn't mentioned anything to Zayn, or Harry, for that matter, yet. Louis sort of hopes this conversation will buy him a little time there.

So mostly, really, that near miss aside, things have been pretty smooth. Liam's been over for dinner like, four times and Louis' almost certain Zayn and Liam are properly dating now, even if Zayn is being all vague about it. Fuck, normally Louis does not spend this much time pondering Zayn’s emotional state, that’s like, who does that? That’s not a thing. But. Whatever. Under the circumstances, he honestly, really, believes he's got it under control.

And if sometimes he thinks these circular thoughts, generally while staring at Harry, about how like what if it’s fate? About like if Harry and Zayn hadn’t fallen apart then Zayn wouldn’t be here, never would have been around to fail at sneaking out of Louis’ bed, and then his whole University life would have been different, and then he wouldn’t have Zayn, and then Zayn wouldn’t have Liam, and then Harry probably never would have transfered here, and then- but he puts a stop to that, because it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. It doesn’t change anything. And whatever. He’s fine. He’s got this.

But it must be taking a toll, he must be more stressed than he thinks, because at the moment there is some customer apparently going for dick of the year yelling in Louis' face and Louis is. He can deal with customers, he prides himself on having a comeback sharp enough to put people in their place but not enough to get him fired. But like, right now he’s just staring at this massive idiot in front of him, barely managing the energy to say the canned things he’s supposed to about store policy. The guy is in his face, yelling about how it’s clearly all Louis’ fault that he’d bought the wrong books and he didn’t care that it was past the return time because he needed a full refund and everything he’s saying is so fucking ridiculous, and Louis just. Doesn’t have a comeback. It’s.

He’s going on and on about how if everyone that worked here wasn’t such a moron they’d have known he’d printed the wrong book list and about how if they weren’t all complete crap at their jobs they’d have known what courses he was in and also would have warned him about the return policy and honestly, doesn’t this place hire anyone competent?

“The policy is clearly stated on several signs and your receipt. I’m sorry, but it’s too late in the term for a full refund,” Louis says. This is where he’d normally say something about how it’s helpful if you open your books before the term gets this far, or something at all. Anything. But he’s having a little trouble here. The customer is still ranting, apparently even more enraged by Louis’ stock answers, and Louis is hardly even listening, all he catches his a stream of cursing and some choice insults that Louis can’t even bother being offended by.

“Oi,” Harry says, coming up behind him and shooting Louis a very worried look before turning to the prick in front of them, “you can’t talk like that in here, you’re going to have to leave.”

“Where the fuck am I supposed to trade by books then?” awful guy says.

“‘I’ve heard good things about the internet,” Harry shoots back, “stop being rude and leave. Thanks.” The guy curses a few more times but then he does leave and Harry and Louis are left there with Harry still looking at Louis all worried and. Louis does not want Harry to worry about him, mostly because all he wants is for Harry to worry about him.

“Are you okay, Lou?” Harry asks. Louis closes his eyes. He’s really sort of not. He can’t exactly say that, though, can’t exactly tell Harry that he’s having trouble with the fact that Harry is perfect but Louis can’t have him.

“Don’t do that,” he hisses, eyes closed.

“Do what?” Harry asks.

“You can’t just like, kick people out for being mean. Don’t like, try to save the day or whatever, okay?” Louis says, and he doesn’t mean it, not really, but snapping at Harry makes him feel a tiny bit better, if only for a second.

“Did I do that?” Harry asks, “I didn’t think I did.”

“It felt like it,” Louis says.

“You were just sort of staring at him,” Harry says.

“I can handle it,” Louis says.

“I know, I’ve seen you, but you weren’t,” Harry says, frowning deeply.

“I would have, so just. Don’t, alright?”

“I work here too, though? He was making a scene, and it was time to put an end to it,” Harry says.

“That’s not up to you!” Louis throws back, even though yelling at Harry has already stopped making him feel better.

“Why not? Like, people like that need to fuck off, right? Yelling at people who have to be nice to you because it’s their job? That’s such crap, and you know I’m bad at not saying things,” Harry says, biting his lip.

“I would have handled it,” Louis repeats, “You didn’t need to come to my rescue.”

“I,” Harry starts, “I didn’t see it like that, but sorry, I guess?”

“Whatever,” Louis says. Christ, he doesn’t have this under control at all.

***

“Are you actually mad at me?” Harry asks later when they’re in the stock room, closed for the night but filing things away for the day. His eyes are all big and sincere like they get and Louis is. Weak.

“No,” Louis says.

“I wasn’t trying to like, imply you couldn’t handle yourself? I just, am not good at letting people get away with being shit, I guess,” Harry says.

“That’s a good thing, H,” Louis says, and the nicknames thing is. Not a thing he should he have started in retrospect, but it’s just. Everything with Harry is so fucking easy, makes so damn much sense, and he can’t and it’s actually killing him, he’s decided. It’s actually killing him.

“Gets me in trouble sometimes,” Harry says.

“You shouldn’t apologise for like, being a good person,” Louis says. Harry grins.

“I’m not great at apologising either, generally,” he says.

“I’ll remember that,” Louis says.

“I am sorry you were upset, though,” Harry says, “That I upset you.”

“You didn’t, not really. I’m just. Not having a good day,” Louis says.

“You should let me make it better? I’ll buy you dinner, yeah?” Harry asks. Louis frowns. He basically does not ever remember wanting to say yes to something so badly in his whole life. But. Obviously.

“I can’t tonight,” Louis says. Harry frowns, but then steps closer.

“Okay,” Harry says, putting a hand on Louis’ chest. Fuck.

“Okay?” Louis asks.

“Can I make your day better right here?” Harry asks, and he’s looking down at Louis with those eyes and his mouth is still so fucking pretty and Louis really shouldn’t. Really won’t. He just, maybe just. Once, maybe. He’ll stop, he’ll stop, but first- he reaches out a hand and runs it through Harry’s curls and pulls him in, tugging a little and leaning up into Harry and those lips and kissing him and. Fuck. This is the opposite of helpful and it’s so good, so amazingly good and Louis is going to stop. He’s going to, just kiss Harry for a minute more. He’s going to just kiss him for a minute more and then he’s going to stop. He is.

He’s just going to slide his tongue over Harry’s lips once, just going to feel Harry’s mouth open under his once. Right. Just. Fuck. Just once and then he’s going to stop. He’s going to pull Harry in closer, just for a minute, just a minute, and he’s going to stop. He’s going to stop as soon as Harry’s back finds that wall and their hips find each other’s. Shit. He’s, he just wants to lick Harry’s neck once, honestly, then he’s going to stop. He’s just going to feel the way Harry’s hands trace under his shirt once, just going to dwell on the feeling of Harry’s thumb tracing lines on his stomach once, and then he’s.

Fuck. Okay. Fuck. He’s going to, as soon as he gets Harry’s belt undone maybe, as soon as Harry moves his hips just fucking like that a few more times, as soon as their legs are slotted, shit. As soon as he’s pulling Harry’s pants down, as soon as Harry is whipping Louis’ shirt off and licking the lines he’d traced with his thumb, as soon as he pulls off Harry’s shirt and feels Harry’s skin against his. As soon as he hears the way Harry bites out his name, lower than normal, even. He’s. Fuck. Fuck. He’s, just. He’s just- as soon as, his hands are in Harry’s boxers and he’s pulling them down and sliding himself down with them and Harry’s hands are in his hair and--

Shit.

And when they’re sitting on the stock room floor, collapsed in a pile, leaning against each other and breathing heavy and Harry still has a hand casually in Louis’ boxers, on his hip, fingers stretching so far that Louis is already sort of twitching again, he feels absolutely amazing and also like worse person on the entire planet.

Fuck.

***

Two nights later, after days he hasn’t seen Harry at all, different shifts, and after not really responding to his texts and feelings like he’s having some sort of giant breakdown, Louis and Zayn and Liam get really, really drunk. Niall hadn’t been able to make it, and that’s dangerous. The thing is that at this point Louis doesn’t even know where he’d begin, what he’d possibly say now that so much as happened. So, several drinks in, he just keeps apologising, nonsensically mumbling that he’s sorry.

“You’re giving me a complex here, should I check the flat for bodies or something?” Zayn says from where he’s wrapped in Liam.

“Like detectives!” Liam says, giggling into Zayn, who pulls him in tighter.

“No bodies,” Louis says.

“You know I have no idea what you keep apologising for, yes?” Zayn asks.

“Oh, I know,” Louis says, and he sort of sways and throws himself over Liam and Zayn. Liam giggles again, because apparently rum does that to him, and he puts a hand in Louis’ hair. Liam is a good one, really. Well done, Zayn, and all.

“Should I be concerned?” Zayn asks, and Louis doesn’t have to look at him to know his eyebrows are raised.

“Maybe!” Louis says. Wait. Fuck, “no. No, no worries, darlin’.”

“Well that’s reassuring,” Zayn says. Liam’s got the freehand that’s not in Louis’ hair tracing around some of the lettering on Zayn’s arm and Louis wants to throw up. He’s so dizzy. He’s dizzy because like, it has to be like this, like he has to be with someone who can get drunk with them, who can cuddle with Zayn and Liam and Niall, like, that’s not even a thing, an option. That’s not negotiable as far as he sees it. But like, Harry is. He could never have Harry here, like this, and the thought makes him want to bury himself in the couch. How is he this gone about someone he’s known for a month?

“At least no bodies,” Liam says.

“True,” Zayn says.

“Nothing like that, nothing at all,” Louis says, sitting up just long enough to take another gulp of his drink and then flopping back down. He reaches a hand out to lace his fingers with Zayn’s, so the three of them are all tangled in each other and it makes him feel both better and worse all at once. He closes his head and tries to see anything but Harry, tries to remember anything but Harry. It doesn’t really work. Above him, he’s pretty sure Liam and Zayn start making out, and like, it’s sort of nice, actually. It’s probably not normal, though. Somewhere through the rum clouding his thoughts Louis thinks that maybe it’s like, if they have different rules than other people for everything, mostly because he’s made it so, honestly, then maybe he could. Maybe if he figured out what to say. Maybe there is an answer. He falls asleep before he comes up with one.

Unfortunately, by the next morning, or the time he wakes up the next morning anyway, it’s too late. Louis has imagined a thousand ways he’d get caught here, from Niall to Zayn walking into the bookstore, but the most obvious and also worst one has never occurred to him. He walks into the kitchen that morning, his head throbbing, to find an already dressed Zayn sitting at the table, looking troubled. Fuck. Liam, as it turns out, is a morning person, early runs and such, and while Zayn turns down the actual workout part, he does sometimes walk Liam to the track earlier in the morning that Louis thought Zayn knew was even a time of day.

“Morning,” Louis mumbles, heading for the fridge. Zayn looks tense, “Liam out then?”

“Yeah, walked him to the track,” Zayn says.

“That’s ambitious,” Louis says, not looking at Zayn but feeling the way Zayn’s eyes are sort of lasering into his back.

“I um. Ran into someone,” Zayn says. Oh. Oh holy fuck.

“Oh?”

“I was walking back to our flat and there was Harry, my former whatever Harry, and he goes here now, but I guess, you knew that?” Zayn says.

“Zayn,” Louis says, turning around.

“He works at the bookstore, Lou?” Zayn asks.

“I didn’t know who he was when I hired him,” Louis says. Zayn frowns.

“I don’t. I don’t care that you hired him? But like. You didn’t tell me?” Zayn says. Louis sits down and runs a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“We just chatted for a few minutes, said things that were probably lies about getting a drink or whatever and he said he was working at the store and he’s been here for weeks and weeks and you knew, Lou,” Zayn says.

“I didn’t, I didn’t know what to say,” Louis says, and he should, right here, he should confess everything. Should tell Zayn everything. Should.

“I don’t know, ‘guess who I saw today, Zayn!’ might’ve worked,” Zayn says.

“Yeah. I just. I guess things were so good for you and Liam, I didn’t want to like, bring up old shit for you,” Louis hedges. Zayn frowns.

“Because i’m some sort of fragile emotional thing, or?”

“No! It was an awkward situation, I didn’t, it was a weird thing, you know?” Louis says.

“I get that,” Zayn says, biting his lip and nodding.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Like, I appreciate that you were trying to help, I guess, and I see that it would have been a weird spot. I just wish you would have said something,” Zayn says. And Louis ignore the voices inside screaming at him to just tell Zayn everything and reaches across the table to grab Zayn’s hand and says,

“I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that,” Zayn says.

“I mean it,” Louis says.

“I know,” Zayn says. He’s still biting his lip and Louis’ head and stomach are betraying him and it’s just. Not a good morning.

***  
At exactly three fourteen in the afternoon, Louis’ day gets worse.

“You can’t ignore my texts, Louis,” Harry’s voice says from behind him as he’s walking to the library. Shit. Louis turns around.

“Harry,” Louis says. Harry takes several steps and closes the gap between him. He looks. He looks furious. God.

“I’m not going to be your secret,” Harry says like he’s been seething all day. He probably has. Clearly Harry has put everything together after running into Zayn and Louis is. He can’t get out of this one.

“I didn’t ask you to be!” Louis says. Harry makes a disbelieving scoffing sort of sound.

“How do you figure that?” Harry asks, “unless the other day was some sort of leading me on, getting me out of your system thing, which is equally shitty.”

“Fuck. No, I just, I can’t get you out of my system, alright? That’s the whole problem! I tried to just not, I didn’t mean to, I thought it wouldn’t, but then, I didn’t mean to,” Louis says. Apparently he’s lost the ability to communicate with people lately. That’s just fantastic.

“You accidently pulled my pants down? You didn’t mean to?” Harry asks.

“I did, but I didn’t like, by the the time I knew who you were we’d already had that interview and it had already started and I didn’t know what to do!” Louis says. Harry’s eyes go all wide and incredulous.

“Talked to someone? Said something? Told me something? Fuck, Louis, I asked you if I was coming on too strong, I’d have backed off,” Harry says.

“I didn’t want you to,” Louis says miserably.

“What do you want, then?” Harry asks, “I mean, this is why we haven’t hung out outside work, why we never went on that date, why you haven’t answered my texts in two days, right?”

“Right,” Louis says.

“So what do you want?” Harry asks.

“It’s not that easy, though. You get that this was a fucking awful spot for me, right?” Louis asks.

“Are you implying I put you in an awful spot? Because I’m not the one who knew anything was out of the ordinary,” Harry says.

“I’m just saying it sucked, it sucks, okay?” Louis says, frustrated. Harry sighs, looking a little defeated, a little less angry.

“I’m going to ask you something, and then I need you to ask me something, okay?” he says. Louis nods.

“Okay,” He says.

“This isn’t some thing where you’re in love with him, right?” Harry asks, “I just have to check.”

“No. Not in love with Zayn, not keeping you a secret, not trying to lead you on, just, not handling things well,” Louis says. Harry nods.

“Okay, now you have to ask me something,” Harry says.

“What?”

“I really need you to ask me what happened, Lou. I need you to ask me about Zayn,” Harry says. Louis winces.

“Harry,” He says. Harry shakes his head.

“It’s obviously important, so ask me, please,” Harry says. Louis wraps his arms around himself.

“Tell me?” he asks, knowing he sounds small.

“It’s, when I was twelve we moved next door, and like, I’d never had a friend like him before, right? Like, I’d never actually had a friend to have conversations with, but we were twelve and we could talk for hours and hours, and like. It was so fucking important, you know? Every other friend I’d ever had was still like, kid stuff and whatever, and then Zayn would talk about like, ideas with me, and it was like. By the time we were fourteen we hardly ever talked to anyone but each other,” Harry says, pausing to look at Louis.

“Right,” Louis says.

“And like, then we were, older and there were hormones and there were even longer talks and it was like, we were everything together then, like the two of us, and we were going to go to university together, live together and it was all planned at two am, everything was words and making out and things we were probably too young to say, really, right? And then like, things at school weren’t good for Zayn, like, people knew about us, and I was mostly okay, but Zayn was getting shit for it, he was getting shit for a lot of things, and like, he was trying to pick a university and so much, and he was like, drowning in it all, I thought, anyway? Like- I just wanted to help, you know? I just like, i didn’t know how to make it suck less and I wanted to, and I wanted to like, I don’t know, I had all these ideas, but I think it was, I know it was, too much. I was too much, like, I just wanted to help but I did it too strong, and the less I helped the more I felt like I was failing him and he shut down and I got angry and we just. Stopped making each other happy,” Harry says. Louis takes a deep breath.

“Okay,” Louis says.

“We were kids, Lou, it was a long time ago. I pushed too hard, I do that, I guess, and drove him away and then we were nothing, and it was awful, but. We were kids.”

“I know,” Louis says.

“I’m going to ask you something again now,” Harry says.

“Okay,” Louis says again. He feels dizzy.

“What do you want?” Harry says, again.

“I, I can’t like, I can’t lose Zayn, Harry,” Louis says.

“Right. That’d be two of us then, and you just met me, right?” Harry says sadly.

“I want you, though,” Louis admits. Harry nods.

“Good. I, do you believe in fate?” he asks. And. It is unreal, actually, how perfect for Louis he is.

“Yes,” Louis says.

“Me too, and here’s the thing, I- I’m really angry with you right now, I’m mad at you and I still want this to work so fucking badly, Louis. I’ve only met you but I want this, I think this could be amazing. I feel like we might be, like, fate, and so I’m not going to tell you what to do, but this is what I want: I want you, this and us. I want you to, I would like you to try here, talk to Zayn? Figure something out? Decide what you want? And I promise that no matter what I’ll still think you’re like, one of the best people I’ve ever known, and I’ll go away if you want me to, so just. If you could decide and let me know,” Harry says. Louis closes his eyes briefly.

“I can do that,” he says.

“Can you?” Harry asks.

“You’re mad at me but you want this to work anyway?” Louis asks.

“You’re sort of wonderful, Louis Tomlinson, poorly handled situations and all,” Harry says, and he leans up and kisses Louis softly.

“Is it just that the sex was awesome?” Louis jokes, incredibly weakly, but Harry smiles back.

“That’s it,” Harry says.

“I’m gonna, walk. Think,” Louis says.

“Good,” Harry says.

“I’ll call you, I promise,” Louis says.

“I know where you work if you don’t,” Harry says, and then he kisses Louis again and turns around and walks away and leaves Louis to his thoughts.

***

Louis walks to the art store that evening, knowing Zayn won’t be there. He’s looking for Liam. He finds him at the counter, flipping through a magazine and looking bored.

“Lou!” Liam says brightly when Louis walks in, “Zayn’s not here.”

“I came to see you,” Louis says, “if you’re not busy.”

“Not at all, are you okay?” Liam asks.

“Not really,” Louis says, “But also so much more than okay.”

“Um,” Liam says.

“I have to talk to Zayn tonight, about a thing,” Louis says.

“Okay,” Liam says.

“And I need like, to put you on standby,” Louis says.

“Standby,” Liam repeats.

“I’m not sure he’s going to take it well, so you should be ready,” Louis says. Liam frowns.

“Ready for what?” Liam asks.

“I handled something in the worst way, and I have to tell him,” Louis says.

“You really think, you think you’ve done something Zayn will honestly be mad at you for? I mean, you two are so like, beyond close,” Liam says. God, he’s so fucking genuine. It’s amazing.

“Does it bother you that we are?” Louis asks.

“Of course not,” Liam says, “should it?”

“No, it shouldn’t,” Louis says.

“I didn’t think so,” Liam says, “so, what’s going on, then?”

“I’ve told you,” Louis says.

“No, you haven’t,” Liam says.

“I don’t know if I can say it more than once,” Louis says. Liam nods like he’s considering that.

“Okay, I could be like, practice though, if you wanted, or if you wanted to talk it out before,” Liam says.

“Why?” Louis asks, because he’s feeling terribly sorry for himself at the moment.

“Why what?” Liam asks.

“Why would you listen like that?” Louis asks.

“We’re friends,” Liam shrugs. Louis nods.

“Yeah. I, okay. Try not to hate me, here, but I might have. You’ve heard, Zayn’s told you about Harry, right?” Louis says.

“Sure,” Liam says.

“He transferred here and I might have hired him at the bookstore before I realized who he was and I might have fallen for him even after I knew and I might have had sex with him in the stock room and I didn’t tell him, or Zayn, and like, I fucked it all up,” Louis says.

“Oh, Louis,” Liam says, looking at him with all sympathy and understanding and empathy and no judgement. Which, Louis had not been expecting that.

“I’m awful, basically,” Louis says.

“You’re not,” Liam says.

“I tried to not, you know? I tried to like, stay away from him,” Louis says.

“But you couldn’t?” Liam asks.

“I’m selfish and I suck,” Louis says. Liam frowns.

“I think like, when you fall for someone it’s always sort of selfish though, and that’s okay? Like, you really like him, right?” Liam asks.

“He’s actually perfect for me, I think,” Louis says.

“Then like, it’s important enough to be selfish about? And I, I have a serious bias obviously, but, I think Zayn will take it better than you think he will,” Liam says.

“I fucked it up,” Louis says.

“Zayn loves you, though, and maybe like, all of this can get him some kind of closure too,” Liam says.

“You really think he’ll take it okay?” Louis asks. He’s so pathetic lately, honestly.

“I do, I mean, I guess you still probably know him better than I do? But, yeah, I do,” Liam says.

“I think you’ve made impressive strides already, into knowing him,” Louis says. Liam blushes.

“I’m trying,” Liam says.

“You’re really good for him, if i’ve never told you,” Louis says. Liam beams.

“And you’re happy for him, right?”

“Of course,” Louis says.

“Well. See? It’ll be okay, the two of you, and you and Harry, really it will,” Liam says.

“I think this is a little different than me liking you, Liam,” Louis says. Liam shrugs.

“Go find out,” He says. Louis gulps. Right. Home. To talk to Zayn.

“Be on standby?” Louis asks.

“Promise,” Liam says. Louis sighs and heads out the door. He considers stopping at Niall’s too, then remembers Niall’s out on some date tonight. So. Home it is.

***

“Zayn?” Louis calls walking in. Zayn emerges from his room in pajamas and with paint splotches on his arm.

“Hey,” Zayn says.

“I’m sorry,” Louis blurts. Zayn blinks.

“You’ve said. Over and over,” Zayn says.

“There is more,” Louis says.

“More enough that we should sit?” Zayn asks, heading to the couch.

“Yes,” Louis says. He sits down and takes deep, steadying breaths while Zayn looks at him curiously.

“So? Zayn says.

“Harry,” Louis says.

“I sort of assumed that much,” Zayn says.

“I, remember when I said I didn’t know who he was when I hired him?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says.

“I um, didn’t so much interview him as flirt with him, and then I was going to stop, when I knew who he was, but then. I. Fuck, I, just. Kept it up,” Louis says. Zayn tits his head.

“You’ve been flirting with Harry at work? You like him? That’s what you didn’t want to tell me?” Zayn asks.

“Yes,” Louis says, miserably. Zayn nods.

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay?”

“Is that everything?” Zayn asks, because. Fuck Zayn knows him really well.

“No,” Louis says.

“No?” Zayn asks.

“It’s been. More than flirting. I, fuck, Zayn I tried not to and trying not to ended up at stockroom sex,” Louis says.

“Right,” Zayn says.

“I can’t, I don’t, please just don’t hate me? Please like, just tell me I suck but then I’ll like, I don’t know but we can be okay, right? Because I can’t,” Louis says. He’s such a mess, god, he’s such a fucking mess right now.

“Lou,” Zayn says, “do I look like I hate you?”

“I’m afraid to really focus on your face,” Louis says. Zayn sighs.

“Come on, I don’t, look, I obviously- wait, I’m not mad, or hurt or whatever,” Zayn says. Louis lets his eyes focus.

“You’re not?” Louis asks.

“It would have been better if you had like, told me, like I said this morning? But you’ve been acting weird for weeks and I knew something was up. This explains everything. I sort of wondered after I ran into him this morning, actually,” Zayn says.

“You did?” Louis asks.

“I know you,” Zayn says.

“You know I’m awful?” Louis asks.

“Stop that. No, I meant, like thinking about it, I get it,” Zayn says.

“Yeah?”

“Look, I’m not exactly an information sharer or whatever myself, and like, I also get, seeing Harry again, he’s turned into, or maybe always was, exactly your type,” Zayn says.

“And you’re okay with that?” Louis asks.

“I don’t know yet? But if it takes me awhile to be, if I’m not right away, that’s on me, not you,” Zayn says. Louis is dizzy again.

“But I shouldn’t have,” Louis says.

“Like I said, I wish you had told me, but I get it,” Zayn says.

“You’re not, you don’t hate me?” Louis says.

“Lou, even if there were bodies hidden in this flat I would still be sitting right here, you know that, right?” Zayn asks.

“I guess,” Louis says.

“So like, if you like him you should, do that, maybe not in stockrooms, but, don’t let me stop you,” Zayn says.

“You’re sure?” Louis asks, “like, what if I brought him over?”

“You should,” Zayn says.

“Really? You’re not just being the most mature person on earth here for my sake?” Louis says.

“It’s absolutely for your sake, but I still mean it,” Zayn says. Louis nods.

“I’m, okay, we’re okay?” Louis asks.

“We never weren’t,” Zayn says. Louis throws himself into Zayn’s arms for that, burrowing in a little,

“Is it selfish and terrible to say I need to hide with you for a minute or two before I go find him?” Louis says.

“Unhealthy, maybe, but not selfish,” Zayn says. Louis curls up in him and hides for awhile, just breathing.

***

He texts Harry a quick, “where do you live? Can I come there right now?”

Before heading out, he needs air again, regardless of Harry’s answer. His phone beeps almost instantly, an address and a “yes, please.”

Louis takes a breath and heads in that direction, buzzing into Harry’s building and then taking the stairs to work out his nerves a little.

“Hey,” Harry says, opening the door.

“Hi,” Louis says. Harry lets him in and Louis takes a minute to just look around, to appreciate that he’s in actually in in Harry’s place.

“So,” Harry says, bites his lip like maybe he’s trying not to be hopeful. Louis tugs on his hand and pulls Harry in and kisses him. Harry beams against his lips.

“So I told him, and Liam actually,” Louis says, pulling back just a little.

“I don’t know a Liam,” Harry says.

“But you will! Liam is dating Zayn so when you’re over at mine you’ll see him and like, because you can come over to mine, because I want you there,” Louis says.

“Yeah?” Harry asks, grinning.

“Yeah, I mean, I think it’s a bit weird for the four of us to like, double right now, even if we bring Niall, but we could get there, I hope,” Louis says.

“You plan to keep me around that long?” Harry asks.

“After all of this? You’d better stay,” Louis says.

“I could do that,” Harry says.

“Besides, I need my tea, and my time to get used to that whole forward thing,” Louis says.

“Persistent and honest,” Harry says back, kissing him again.

“Still mad at me?” Louis asks.

“You can make it up to me,” Harry says.

“I really am, I’m sorry I handled this in the worst way,” Louis says.

“I know you are,” Harry says.

“It’s really your fault though, if you weren’t so irresistible, I wouldn’t have these problems,” Louis grins.

“I’d say I’d work on being less charming, but I’m very okay with this end result, so,” Harry says.

“I thought it was more of a starting result,” Louis says.

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Harry says.

“We could make it one,” Louis says. Harry beams again.

“We could do that,” Harry says.

“You can take me out proper now,” Louis says.

“I plan to,” Harry says, “Do I get that holiday?”

“Warm and sexy still?” Louis asks.

“Now more than ever,” Harry says. Louis pulls him back in to kiss him again, and it’s better than before, this time, when Harry’s mouth opens under his. Probably it’s that he’s so much lighter, all the guilt lifted. That and they’re not in a stockroom, that probably helps too, that and the way Harry is pulling on Louis’ belt loops, pulling him towards a door that must be his bedroom.

“Presumptuous,” Louis grins.

“Persistent,” Harry repeats, “and irresistible, apparently.”

“Don’t let that go to your head,” Louis says, pulling Harry’s shirt off as he talks. He plans, this time, to take his time, to lick every single tattoo Harry has. To highly encourage Harry to do the same to his. To touch and kiss and press and feel.

“Too late,” Harry says, putting his hand on Louis’ chest, feeling Louis’ racing pulse, “that for me?”

“You,” Louis says, attaching his lips to Harry’s again. And then Harry’s knees hit the bed, and Louis is climbing over him and whispering, “Slow, this time slow.”

“Yes, fuck, yes please,” Harry says, licking Louis’ ear as he does. So Louis leans down and arranges his legs and takes it slow.

***

The first few times are a little uncomfortable, a little weird. Harry and Zayn are overly polite and it gives Louis anxiety, but Liam gives him reassuring looks and Niall is good for talking over awkward moments. And Harry just continues to be more perfect and Liam and Zayn are happy together and it's worth it overall. And then it gets better. And then like, Harry and Zayn laugh at the same time at something Louis says. And then it's genuine smiles at each other, and then it's everyone meeting to see Niall play at a bar and Harry and Zayn get there first and when Louis show up, it's okay.

And then, one day, there are stories being told about them getting their first tattoos together and stories about skipping class and first drinks and weed on a playground and it's like. Really good, actually. There is the five of them getting drunk and Louis burning dinner and birthdays and day trips and jokes about how happy Harry's mum will be he's found Zayn again, all over the building seriousness of the best relationship Louis has ever been in.

Possibly, he had made this all too difficult, but in the end, or at another starting result, when he's signing his name next Harry's on a lease, for a flat that's just theirs, in the same building as Zayn and Liam and also Niall, how they got there doesn't seem to matter.


End file.
